


Games for Two People

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dungeons & Dragons References, F/M, Penis In Vagina Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: Arthur hangs around a game shop after hours.
Relationships: England (Hetalia)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	Games for Two People

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my Tumblr; tea-pettiest

Arthur perused the aisles, looking deeply interested in the miniatures on the shelf in front of him. When he could muster the courage, his eyes would flit upwards, past the silhouetted figures to where she was restocking rule books and player guides. 

Her movements were smooth, and maybe it was just because his mind had been idling about the nature of her touches for the past few weeks, but he thought he perceived tenderness when her hands slid over the girthy bundles of pages.

The dim golden light of the shop made the warmth of her skin almost palpable. The windows were black with night, though it only heightened the intimacy in the shop, giving off the impression that the shop was cut off from the rest of the world. 

Here was a cozy little oasis in a sea of disappointment and responsibility. Of duty and standing on ceremony, of folding up the truest intentions of one’s heart so they might better fit the confines of dull social cues. 

Here, U.N. meetings couldn’t touch him, and his stupid boss wouldn’t be caught dead.

This was a place of safety and it was just the two of them here.

That made Arthur almost all the more nervous. He’d thought of her tirelessly through the weeks, feverish dreams haunting him at night, only to burn away in the light of day, leaving nothing but the crusty traces of shame. If this went poorly, his safety would be destroyed, either by the aftertaste of her rejection or by her returning underwhelming affections. 

That would be truly awful; if he lost this oasis, where else would he go to escape? He, Lukas, and Vladimir had been meeting here for their monthly campaigns for as long as they’d known of the shop. What would he do if catastrophe struck between him and the clerk?

He checked his watch. There were about fifteen minutes left before it closed. It was now or never; because if he didn’t do it now, he’d never have the courage to try again.

Arthur stepped out from behind the shelves and tried to make some noise so as not to startle her. He took care not to walk quietly on the balls of his feet, going for a more solid sounding heel-toe step, and he cleared his throat. He caught the barely perceptible jump in her shoulders at the signs of his presence. So she’d thought she’d been alone.

He tried not to stare as she straightened up and turned to him. 

She was smiling – a smile he’d seen many times before in the hours he’d passed at the shop. He knew she gave it to everyone, as was her job, but he couldn’t help but feel special anyway.

“Hey, did you need help finding anything?”

He wanted to say something quick back, wanted to charm her into taking an interest in him, past that of a customer. His mouth was dry though, and any words he tried to throw together for her felt like they fell short.

He gave an awkward little laugh.

“Oh, no, I know my way around a bit by now.”

Her smile softened into something more earnest, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen you here before.”

“Some friends and I come here to play when we have the time,” Arthur cleared his throat again and tried not to notice the flutter of nervousness flapping in his chest. “Actually, that’s sort of why I approached you; I was wondering if maybe since you guys are closing soon if you’d want to…”

_Ask her out. Ask her on a normal date like a gentleman. Ask her to get a drink with you._

“…to have a short game with me?”

No! 

Arthur hated himself immediately.

“I mean, I was just wondering – it’s probably a silly question since you’ve been working, and you probably don’t want to spend your off time here, so I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything I just-“

She looked at him, her smile having fallen lopsided. The way she watched him made his words dry up again, the corpse of a riverbed in a desert.

“Sure, I’ll play with you, though you can’t really play D‘nD with only two people,” she straightened the stack of books in her hand and placed them on the shelf, “I wouldn’t work at a game shop without liking the games anyways.”

“Fair enough.”

It took a few minutes to set up as she locked up and flipped over the ‘open’ sign. Meanwhile, Arthur took the liberty of getting a pad of paper and some dice. Campaigns could be long, so it probably wouldn’t be a full one; he didn’t mind though. Just being with her had lightning flooding his veins. Even if they only played for an hour, he thought of what he might learn of her. 

He thought of what might come next.

“So – real quick; who’s your character?”

She raised an eyebrow, “Wait, are you going to be DM while you play?”

He flushed slightly and couldn’t help the indignance in his response.

“I don’t suppose we have any other option unless you want to DM while playing.”

“True – though not very impartial.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and gave her a haughty grin.

“You don’t trust me to be objective?”

“I might, but Vina Downrun, bard of Piccaster Crag probably doesn’t.”

“Hm.” Arthur thought for a moment, “then may her new traveling companion, the warlock Fehnim Bhida protect her from such potentially malevolent forces.”

“A warlock, huh? Would’ve pegged you for a wizard.”

“Well, they’re not so different, are they?”

“You seem more the scholarly type, than the sort to make a deal with a devil.”

Arthur shook the die from the little drawstring bag he’d procured. 

His face warmed, and he smiled again without looking at her.

“Oh, love, you have no idea.”

He cleared his throat and thought for a few moments. Where should the two characters meet? Under what circumstances would a bard and warlock favorably cross paths? Arthur thought of the first time he’d seen her when he was playing a particularly arduous campaign. Matthew had joined them – a rare occasion – their fourth for one of the “Temple, Tower, and Tomb” mini-adventures. He’d had to roll high lest his character fall into one of the many abounding traps when he’d caught his first glimpse of her in the puzzle section, reaching for one off the top shelf for a stout, older woman beside her. 

A warmth glowed in him at the memory. He remembered feeling good like he had when she’d smiled at him that night. He hadn’t rolled high enough and Lukas had been rather snappish about their mission not having room for such distraction, though Arthur couldn’t bring himself to care.

“There’s a tavern in a town by the way of which many adventurers travel. The ale flows plentifully and cheaply, and there is a board on which those who seek it may always find work. Up the stairs are room and board for those with coin and necessity. It is here that Fehnim dwells on a night like tonight, waiting for almost anything to happen. He sits at the bar with a pint, but only sort of sips it halfheartedly. Even drinking’s lost it’s fun. Vina also seems to be sitting at the very same bar, nursing her own drink.”

He looked over to where she was sitting. Her arms were tucked around her and when she caught his eye she looked away.

“I see the cute Warlock, and want to talk to him, so I go up to the seat next to him, and ask ‘is this seat taken?’”

Arthur couldn’t suppress the grin at his face. So they weren’t actually playing a campaign. At the back of his mind, he thought of Alfred or Francis teasing him about the current situation; hitting on a woman at an imaginary bar, via roleplay. He quickly banished the thought, for it had no place here.

Arthur fingered the die.

“Fehnim notices the woman but keeps his stoic disposition. He says ‘it is now,’ and gestures for her to take her seat.”

Things were going well between them – Fehnim and Vina, that is. 

They spoke extensively of their journeys, their search for work, and when the musicians switched to a jauntier tune (one that was most impressive to Fehnim and only sort of, for Vina) the pair danced together.

Almost an hour into the ‘campaign’, when it was getting late both in England and Ravenloft, the tavern started to clear out. Though Arthur and she had been alone in the shop for some time now, the air felt stiller. Emptier. 

Like the last call was happening in their realm too.

“It’s getting late,” she said, though Arthur wasn’t quite sure if it was her or Vina saying so. “It’s getting late and I lean in real close, so that Fehnim’s the only one who can hear me.”

Arthur locked eyes with her. His hands, which had been fumbling with the unused die up until that point, froze.

“Vina has Fehnim’s every attention.”

“I whisper something about heading off to bed – and I extend an invitation for Fehnim to join me, should he be interested. Then I step away and climb the creaky back stairway to the rooms above with a final glance over my shoulder.”

Her hand had since extended over the table, her fingers reaching out to gently stroke across Arthur’s knuckles. There he was again, his mouth empty and dry. He felt ready to crumble into dust.

She was watching him. Waiting for him. Of course, she was, she’d just _told_ him she was. Arthur dropped the die, letting them clatter to the table and then leaned in across to take her face in his hands as he pressed his lips to hers. 

She gasped, not surprised, but relieved. Finally. 

His lips moved against hers, working softly. She was warm and solid in his fingers – real. He suddenly felt the urge to return to real life.

The table kept them infuriatingly apart. Arthur’s heart was pounding in his chest, and though he was not the sort to wear his heart out on his sleeve, he ached to hold her to him and make her feel it too.

He felt her hands grab deafly at the collar of his shirt, the downwards tug was almost enough to drag his mind back down into the gutter where it belonged. He wasn’t thinking of her smile now, or the afternoons he’d spent pining for her. 

Now he was thinking of the nights he’d spent at home, the way she’d appeared to him then.

Their kisses felt tighter and more desperate, lips no longer soft but demanding. More teeth, less tongue. Arthur groaned when she finally broke the kiss, panting lately.

“The windows,” she muttered. “Someone might see us here.”

“Of course – it’s my bad, I shouldn’t have-“

“Follow me,”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him around the table, pulling him through the deep aisles. It was like going through the rabbit hole; the cozy scent of books and dust only adding to the mysterious depths of the shop’s contents.

She pulled him to the back corner of the shop, where a little cavernous nook was layered with pillows; intended for patrons to do some light reading, should they wish.

She fell to the pillows and took Arthur with her, tugging him down so that he hovered above her. Then, they were kissing again.

He tried to keep the brunt of his weight off of her. This was happening so fast, and though he didn’t weigh much, he didn’t want her to feel burdened by the hardening of himself in his trousers.

She was having none of that though. Seizing his collar once more, she dragged his frame down against hers. 

At the feeling of her breasts pressing to his chest, he moaned, and sagged into her.

She gave him a sharp nip and started at the buttons of his shirt. 

Once about half of them were undone, her lips left his mouth and went to his neck. Arthur gasped.

“ _Oh_!”

She nipped him again and his hands found her hips and brought her body against his. With one foul movement, he flipped their positions so she was straddling him. She could feel the bulge in his trousers and rolled her hips against his for good measure. She could practically feel the way his breath caught in his throat, the way his fingers tensed around her.

She laughed against his skin, tasting the ridge of his collarbone.

“What?” he grunted, face burning.

“You’re so sensitive,” she carded her fingers through his hair. “It’s really cute.”

He kissed her harder. He wasn’t cute, he was burning for her. He was going to hilt himself inside of her and make her call for him. 

He slunk his hands beneath the hem of her shirt, feeling her soft sides, and bringing the garment up and over her head. The force of the motion left her a little breathless. At the sight of her bra, Arthur’s cock throbbed. 

He wanted nothing more than to wrench the cups up and feel her in his bare hands, but a voice in the back of his head sneered at him; _don’t be a brute_!

He nudged a hand up under her chin so she would pause the trail of kisses she left at his chest and look at him.

“Is this okay?” he tried to keep his eyes sharp, his voice hard. 

“I don’t know,” she started, “you have to roll at least a twenty to get me completely naked.”

He watched her for a moment. He’d left the die at the table. He froze. 

Would the moment be completely ruined if he ran back and-

The silence of the moment was shattered again as she laughed.

“I’m _kidding_ ,” she brought him in for a kiss, laughing again at his petulant expression. “You’re so gullible – you were really going to go back and get them? Just to see me naked? That’s sweet, you’re so-“

His mouth silenced her.

“I’m _not_ cute,” he growled against her. Her tongue peeked out against his lips, determined to break his resolve again. He gave it a sharp nip that emitted a squeak. Her eyes widened and her face warmed. 

In other lifetimes, he’d been feared. Abhorred. Quick on his feet, and quicker yet when ready to plunge iron through another man’s heart. 

The softness of her made him ache desperately to show her facets of that side; the side that might give her the best fuck of her life, the one that would lay claim to her heart after one night. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” she breathed, still blushing, but recovering some of her cockiness. “That accent is adorable,” she pressed her mouth to his again, “also you play tabletop games,” her hand slunk down to cup him through his pants. “And I strongly suspect you’ve been hanging around here without your friends lately, because you’ve been trying to work up the nerve to talk to me.”

Arthur gasped at her touch but was determined not to be outdone. 

His hands moved back up her to the clasp at her bra. When it didn’t come undone after two attempts he twisted hard until he felt a snap.

She gasped, her arms rising to cover herself at the unexpected hastiness of him.

“Love, if wanting you makes me cute, then every man in the world must be absolutely _adorable_.”

He wrenched her arms away and behind her, forming a viselike grip at her wrists with one hand. Her breasts thrust towards him, he made sure to keep her eye contact as he peppered a few kisses below her collarbone. Then he ducked his face into her cleavage and nuzzled into it.

She shuddered, the red at her face darkening.

“Mm, who’s cute now?” he teased. He continued downwards to catch a nipple in his mouth. Lips around the hardened peak his tongue teased at the little bud. “I didn’t know you were shy.”

He gave his knee a little bounce so he could watch the motion of her. Was there any better sight than a luscious woman on his lap? He certainly didn’t think so.

He felt her thighs squeeze together.

“I’m not,” she said, though she wouldn’t look at him.

Arthur reached for his trousers and unzipped, pulling himself out. 

He gave himself a few dry pumps before his free hand returned to her hip.

“Do you think you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready for _hours_.”

Arthur thought back to how she’d watched him at the table, about how her first move in their little game had been to hit on him. He thought of how easily she had agreed to play. He imagined her wet through her jeans even then, waiting for his touch.

She moved to remove her own trousers, pulling them down her own legs, bringing her panties with them.

He brought her forward on his lap again, holding her so she was above his member. She shifted her hips and he freed her hands just so she could help guide him to her entrance.

He felt bigger than she’d initially thought; she took him slowly, inch by inch. The further he went in, the more it burned slightly, for while she was wet, he hadn’t even slipped his fingers in. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself through the pain. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant; she liked feeling full with him, feeling his velvet heat when she squeezed around him. The pleasure came in light tingles first, a faint glimmer. 

When she finally adjusted to him, she rocked her hips, and then he took her hands and held them behind her again. Arched towards him, she bounced on his lap. The drag of him inside of her manifested in short bursts of delicious friction that flecked up her spine and tightened the coil of her arousal in the pit of her stomach. Arthur kept them at a steady pace, his free hand at her hip to continue to guide her as she rode him. His face was contented to remain at her breasts, where he contented himself with nuzzling into her, pressing open-mouthed kisses. 

The combination was enough to make her shake on him. She trembled as her hold on reason started to get more and more tenuous.

“Are you close already?”

His question made her want to tease him even more.

“No, not at all.”

He glared at her, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a breathy little laugh that was quickly cut off when he rammed into her. 

“Oh!”

She shook again in his arms and felt herself clench unwittingly around him.

“You were saying?”

“Shut _up_.”

He laughed at this, never faltering in his pace.

Slowly, almost tediously, she grew even closer to her release. Her hold on him tightened.

“You know,” he started, his voice tight, “you were right, I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

She clenched around him and he groaned. 

“What, fuck me?”

His pace stuttered, and his face fell into her cleavage. He twitched inside of her, and peals of pleasure rippled through her. 

“Talk to you,”

It was silly to both of them, and she felt a squeeze in her chest.

Her climax hit her like an anvil when she suddenly realized she couldn’t hold on anymore. She squeezed around him again, much more tightly and this time it came with a rush of wetness that slipped out of her, over him and wetted between her thighs.

He groaned and thrust at a haphazard pace a few more times before he twitched inside of her and found his own release. His hot spend only seemed to feed her oversensitivity. Out of breath and sapped of their energy, they lay slumped together at the pillows.

His arms were still around her.

“Well,” she raised her head enough to press a kiss beneath his jaw, “was it all you hoped and dreamed it would be?”

Her voice was teasing. He chuckled and wrapped his arms more tightly around her.

“Even better.”

This was a safe place indeed. They sat a while longer in the dark and quiet until they were ready to go to Arthur’s flat to clean off.


End file.
